


Just The Way You Are

by xxenjoy



Series: Monster March [5]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Crying During Sex, Don't Read Too Much Into That, Love Confessions, M/M, Porn with Feelings, a whole lotta self-doubt in this one, bottom jaskier, horned geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: Jask surprises Geralt in Kaedwen after the winter and ends up with a  surprise of his own.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Monster March [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189952
Comments: 17
Kudos: 287





	Just The Way You Are

**Author's Note:**

> I read a fic once where Geralt filed down his horns at the beginning of spring and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.

Jaskier has never understood why people call witchers monsters. It's true, they're different, but so are cats and dogs and horses and people like them just fine. Jaskier just sees Geralt as Geralt and always has. He's no different than any other person he's met - a little more coordinated and he dies a little less easy - but otherwise the same. People are so cruel and dismissive of Witchers, but Jaskier is a firm believer that they deserve nice things as much as the next person, maybe even more, and so, he decides to take it upon himself to do nice things for Geralt. Like surprise him in Kaedwen when he comes down from the keep. 

Only it turns out Jaskier is the one to get a surprise. He's never understood why people call Witchers monsters. Not until now.

He spots the hooded figure passing between shops and he's _sure_ it's Geralt, but he doesn't want to approach until he's absolutely certain. So he sneaks between the buildings, trying to get ahead of him and catch a glimpse of his face. Maybe-Geralt pauses in front of a stall and for a moment Jaskier thinks he's stopping to buy something, so he sneaks away, but when he comes around the other side of the house, he stops dead. 

His breath catches and for a second, he's certain that even his heart stops beating. 

The man in the market is certainly Geralt, he knows that now, but sprouting from the top of his head are two thick, curled horns. He tries to call out, but his mouth is dry and maybe it's for the best because Geralt’s expression darkens suddenly and he sniffs at the air. 

For the first time, Jaskier considers that maybe Geralt meets him further south for a reason. Maybe he doesn't want Jaskier to see him like this, he obviously takes measures to ensure that he doesn't. _Fuck_. He's gone and fucked this up, too. 

Ducking back behind the building, Jaskier holds his breath, hoping that Geralt hasn't caught his scent. He knows if he has there's nothing for it, he's caught, but _maybe_ -

" _Jaskier_."

Geralt's voice is low, right on the edge of a growl, and Jaskier winces. When he looks over, the hood is back in place, but Geralt's teeth are bared and they're barely teeth at all - at least the canines - more like _fangs_. He swallows hard and risks a glance up at his eyes. 

"What are you doing here?" Geralt demands, moving at once to pin Jaskier's shoulders against the wall. Jaskier doesn't know what to say. He shifts uncomfortably, unwilling to look Geralt in the face. 

It's not the first time Geralt's been upset with him, but this time Jaskier’s intentions were genuine, he just didn't think it through all the way. Or rather, he hadn't considered that after fifteen years together, there are still things Geralt keeps from him. Deflated, Jaskier wrenches out of his grasp and picks up the bag he dropped when Geralt shoved him. He's embarrassed, feels like an idiot for thinking Geralt might be happy to see him and now on top of it, he's intruded on something he was never supposed to see. 

Geralt doesn't stop him from walking away and Jaskier tries not to think too much about that. 

He books a room at the inn and doesn't bother to go down for dinner. He doesn't know what to do with himself, because if he can't travel with Geralt - and he certainly didn't seem like he was happy to see him - what _can_ he do? Certainly not go back to Oxenfurt and admit to all his peers that yet again, he was a fool and thought someone cared when they didn't. 

It's just that fifteen years is a long time. Nearly half his life. And for Geralt who rarely lets himself form attachments well, Jaskier had thought maybe it meant something to Geralt. It did to him. 

Jaskier doesn't even bother to put his things away before flopping onto the bed and staring up at the beams. Geralt had been so angry. He had just wanted to do something nice, he should have known showing up himself would not be welcome. But maybe this is for the best, maybe everyone was right when they told him he couldn't follow Geralt around forever. 

But he had wanted to. For the last fifteen years of his life, Jaskier has wanted nothing more than to have Geralt in his life, even if nothing ever comes of it. He's never been greedy, never wanted more than he thought Geralt would be willing to give. And look where it's gotten him? Geralt doesn't even trust him enough to show him what he really looks like. 

Geralt lingers as Jaskier hurries off away from him, and he can hardly blame him. He wouldn't stay either if he’d found out the person he'd been travelling with was a monster. Jaskier tries to convince him he's not, but the thought has always been there, nagging at him. _He just hasn't seen you_ , it says and Geralt knows it's true. He _is_ a monster. Whatever happened to him during that second round of trials took away the remaining sliver of humanity. He'd tried so hard to hide it, to try and keep Jaskier for just a little longer, but Jaskier shows up _here_ and how is he supposed to plan for that?

And what is Jaskier doing here in the first place? Geralt needs this time to himself. Needs a chance to hole up and file down the horns and the fangs, to make himself presentable. To visit the brothel before returning to the torture that is travelling with Jaskier. 

Jaskier showing up here had thrown him off. He'd been overcome with shock and confusion and fear. Fear that Jaskier would see him like this and hate him. Fear that this one minor incident would ruin everything he's worked so hard for.

Fear had taken over and he had reacted... badly. It's no wonder Jaskier had left him there, no wonder he didn't want to be seen with him when the first time Jaskier sees what he really looks like, he practically attacks him. Fuck, he really is the monster everyone always says he is.

After everything Jaskier has done to try and prove to the world that Witchers have been given a bad name, that they're not mindless, emotionless killing machines, this is how he repays him. He has to fix this, if not for him then for his brothers' reputation and for Jaskier's peace of mind. The last thing he wants is for Jaskier to think he's in any danger with him. With a sigh, he pulls his pack higher on his shoulder and heads toward the inn.

He catches the scent of Jaskier's perfume as soon as he walks through the door and it tugs at something in his chest. It's bright and floral, but there's a tinge of despair, of sadness intertwined with it. It's not fear though, and while Geralt struggles to comprehend that, the innkeeper passes over a key. Geralt follows the directions to his own room, ridding himself of his pack and swords. He strips his armour, leaving him in only a thin black shirt and his trousers. Before he leaves the room, he pulls his travelling cloak back over his head and shoulders.

He finds Jaskier's room in a matter of minutes and stands outside the door. He's faced griffins and fiends and hired assassins and none have come close to the fear that surges through him now. Because if he failed there, he just died, plain and simple; a fitting end for a Witcher. If he fails now, he loses the person most important to him. He's glad Jaskier isn't the one with heightened senses, glad that he doesn't know how long Geralt stands outside the door before lifting to hand to knock. 

But he does. And as soon as he does, Geralt’s chest tightens and he wants to leave. There's a shuffling from within and then the door pulls in and Jaskier is _right there_. It catches him off guard and before he can consider what Jaskier might be thinking, he blurts out,

"Let me explain," and then doesn't know what to say. What _do_ you say? What are you supposed to say to a man who's known you half his life and only now learns you have _horns_. Geralt shifts, looking at him. Jaskier says nothing, but he moves aside, letting Geralt come into the room. The door shuts behind him and a wave of fear crashes down over him. 

Jaskier looks sad, confused, hurt. He doesn't know where to start.

"I know you're mad and I understand-"

"You're the one who slammed me into a building," Jaskier chokes. The anger is there, Geralt expected it, but it's being smothered by something else, something stronger, like ivy around a sapling. 

"I'm sorry," he winces. He is. He never meant to hurt Jaskier, not emotionally and certainly not physically. "I was... scared. I saw you and I didn't know what to do." His shoulders slump and he turns to look out the window, jaw clenched. "You're not supposed to see me like this."

"And why not?" Jaskier asks. The anger is toned down slightly, the _other_ feeling still there but not so harsh. Geralt doesn't like it, doesn't like the feeling of it or the way it makes Jaskier's voice breaks and he wishes it would go away all together, but he doesn't know how to do that. 

"I'm- Look at me, Jaskier. I'm a monster. I'm exactly what they say I am. A mutant, a _freak_." The anger scent remains, but it takes a sharp turn, twisting into something much more recognizable. Something he knows from tavern brawls and holding Jaskier back when they’re on the road when someone makes a snide comment. 

"You absolutely are not. You're a liar and a terrible friend, but you're not a monster."

"What-"

"Why did you keep this from me?" Jaskier asks, that other feeling creeping up to regain dominance. 

"I thought you'd-" Geralt drops his chin, staring at the floorboards between them. There's a crack down the center of one of them and he focuses on that instead of the sound of Jaskier's voice. "You were the only one who stuck around. You met me during the spring when they're shaved down and I- I was selfish."

"How?" Jaskier prompts. He sounds impatient, but excited, like he's anticipated what Geralt is going to say. But if he had, he wouldn't be happy about it. 

"I didn't want you to hate me. I didn't want you to leave me. So I hid it from you. I became good at keeping them filed low during the warmer months and let them grow out during the winter. I didn't- it's why I never asked you to join me in Kaer Morhen."

Jaskier squints at him, disbelieving or confused, he's not sure, but the look is piercing and Geralt feels transparent under it, like Jaskier can tell every thought in his head. But he knows how that feels and this is not it. Jaskier is making assumptions if anything. Not that that thought is any less horrifying under the circumstances. 

"So let me get this straight," Jaskier says, calmly, cooly. Too calm. "You once rescued me from the den of an incubus you thought would kill me if he tried to fuck me. _Again_ , I might add. If you recall you walked in in the middle of it. You stopped me from leaving the bar with a vampiress one time because, and I quote, _you don't need any help losing blood_ , and one time you intentionally gave me space to continue a quite lovely conversation with a, particularly amenable centaur. But you thought horns were a bit too much for me? Is that what I'm to understand Geralt?"

He doesn't know what to say to that. It's not _just_ the horns, he supposes. But he doesn't need to give Jaskier another reason not to travel with him. Melitele knows there are enough of those already. 

"Am I to believe that you're daft enough to believe that after fifteen years of traipsing over the continent with you, of writing you songs and cooking you supper and tending to your wounds- that _horns_ would be the final straw? Geralt if you haven't noticed I've fucked dozens of people who are, to put it indelicately, much less human than you."

Geralt isn't sure how Jaskier's sex life is relevant, but he says nothing. 

"I actually like them," Jaskier says, eyeing the hood. "Could I... look at them?" 

Reluctantly, Geralt reaches up and pushes the hood back. The air feels cool on his head and he feels incredibly exposed letting Jaskier see him like this, but he shuts his eyes and ducks his head as Jaskier takes a step toward him. 

"Can I touch?"

The air is punched from Geralt's lungs with that one simple question and he nods slowly, tucking his chin a little closer into his chest. Jaskier brushes his fingers along the curve of the left horn and the only way Geralt knows he's touching him is the way he hums with intrigue, similar to the way he hums at his lute when it's newly strung. He takes his time, reaching right down to the base and touching the more sensitive skin there. It doesn't hurt, but it ignites Geralt's instinct to protect himself, makes him feel like he should pull away, hide this from Jaskier again. 

When Jaskier touches his head, he does. He's not sure what it is about the touch, maybe that he can fully feel it, but it snaps his restraint and he pulls back, breathless. 

"Sorry," Jaskier whispers, "did it hurt?"

"No," Geralt admits, "just... unusual. No one's ever touched them before. Maybe Eskel when he helped me file them down the first few times." 

"Why don't we," Jakier suggests, "come sit on the bed, take your cloak and your boots off. I'd like to get a better look at them. if that's okay?"

Geralt nods and Jaskier's hands are on him before he removes his cloak himself. He undoes the clasp with no effort, draping the cloak over his arm before directing Geralt to the bed. This is... not at all how he expected this to go down, but at least Jaskier hasn't turned him away yet. He toes off his boots and sits back on the mattress, leaning against the wall with his feet at the edge. 

In a moment, Jaskier climbs up over him, making himself perfectly at home in Geralt's lap. 

"There," he says proudly, "it's much easier to see like this and you won't' end up with a crick in your neck." Geralt remains silent, worried that he doesn't know the situation well enough to comment. 

Jaskier's hands slip into his hair again, fingers looping around the base of both horns and he feels the faint tug and Jaskier slips up, following the curve of them with his hands. 

"Do you brothers have them?" he asks. Geralt shakes his head.

"Second trials" he explains. "Lost the pigment in my hair and grew fucking horns."

"I like them." 

Jaskier continues his ministrations, apparently happy to just sit and touch and nothing else. And Geralt relaxes under the touch, even if he can barely feel it. Jaskier isn't angry with him, doesn't hate him, and for now, that can be enough, But the air between them grows thick. He doesn't notice it right away, too preoccupied with Jaskier _touching his horns_ , but the scent is what alerts him. Spicy, earthy, floral. 

It's nice, he thinks absently, familiar and enticing. But he doesn't think too much about it. Not until Jaskier's little hums become softer, sweeter. The realization hits him so abruptly he nearly snaps his head back up, but he doesn't want to give Jaskier any more reason to leave him, although, maybe that's not as much of a problem as he thought. 

"Are you... aroused by this?"

Jaskier huffs a little laugh, awkward, but not uncomfortable. "I just think they're sexy."

"Oh."

"Why, does it turn you on?"

"No," Geralt snorts, "I can barely feel it. If I could filing them down would be excruciating."

"Right," Jaskier realizes and Geralt can sense the thinly veiled horror in his voice."Anything else I should know about?"

Somewhat reluctantly, Geralt opens his mouth and pulls his lip back. He'd be horrified at the way Jaskier gasps if he couldn't smell the arousal wafting off of him. 

"Fuck, Geralt, that's-" he reaches out, pressing the pad of his thumb to the point of Geralt's fang and smiles. It's a faint sort of thing, more amusing than outright joy, but he's fascinated and right now that's good enough. 

Jaskier's finger slips along his bottom teeth, but Geralt shifts under him, dislodging him, and Jaskier's fingers brush his bottom lip before slipping forward, sliding between his lips and pressing against his tongue. Geralt's skin prickles just at the thought of it and when he looks up at Jaskier, he finds him wide-eyed and _intrigued_.

Their eyes meet and Jaskier holds his gaze. Then, cautiously, withdraws his fingers and runs them along the swell of Geralt's bottom lip, eyes dropping to watch the way they press against it. 

"Geralt?" he whispers and Geralt realizes he's been so focused on Jaskier's fingers that he hasn't been paying attention to anything else. He's surprised to find he's got his hands settled on Jaskier's hips. His eyes flick down to his hands, then quickly back up to Jaskier's. The moment they meet again, his willpower snaps and he hauls Jaskier forward, one hand slipping to the back of his head to guide him. 

The moment their lips collide, Geralt realizes this was inevitable. That one day Jaskier was bound to find out and want to know about them. His reaction though, Geralt never could have anticipated. 

Geralt is... _kissing_ him. It takes a second for his brain to catch up with what his body has already realized and he breaks the kiss with a jolt. 

"You're not mad at me," he pants and Geralt just stares at him for a moment. 

"No, I told you, I was afraid-"

"That I'd leave you." Jaskier finishes. Geralt nods. "I'd never leave you." He leans in again, trying for a softer, gentler kiss, but the way Geralt's hands press against him sends sparks across his skin. 

Jaskier leans into it, parting his lips to deepen the kiss and Geralt's hand slips to his waist, one big, warm hand curling around his side. He pushes into the touch. It's not often he feels small or delicate with a lover, but Geralt does that for him and it's hotter than it has any right to be. 

He parts his lips, deepening the kiss and Geralt moans softly against him. It's the most beautiful sound Jaskier has ever heard and he responds in kind, desperate to hear that sound again. 

When they part again, Jaskier's breathing heavily and, much to his delight, so is Geralt. He leans back a little, far enough to look at Geralt's face, but not far enough to keep from touching him. He takes in the golden eyes staring back at him, the point of his teeth where Geralt's lips are parted, and the _horns _. Fuck, Geralt must be an idiot to think he wouldn't want him like this.__

__"Can I touch you- the rest of you?" he asks and Geralt grunts a _yes_ , surging forward to hold him again. _ _

__Geralt gets both arms around him this time, lifting him off the mattress and rising to his knees. He shifts them so he's facing the head of the bed and as he settles, gently lays Jaskier back against the mattress. His head hits the pillow and Geralt settles between his thighs, slipping his hands over Jaskier's hips._ _

__Jaskier reaches up to him, running his hands over Geralt's shoulders, down his arms. He follows the lines of his chest through his shirt, straight down to his trousers where he tugs the fabric free. His fingers slip beneath it and he sighs at the warmth of Geralt's skin on his fingertips. Geralt shudders against him and it gives Jaskier the encouragement he needs. Carefully, he curls his hands around the hem of Geralt's shirt, lifting it up and tugging it over his head._ _

__He inhales sharply and Geralt pulls back just slightly. Jaskier is quick to explain his misunderstanding, slipping his hands around the back of Geralt's neck and sliding them down his shoulders._ _

__"You're beautiful," he whispers._ _

__"You've seen me naked a dozen times this week, Jaskier."_ _

__"Not like this."_ _

__And it's true. He's seen Geralt naked more times than he can count and he knows Geralt is sexy, knows the lines of his chest better than he should for never having seen them up close, but he's never seen him like this. Geralt is soft like this, so close, and Jaskier is allowed to touch him, Jaskier is allowed to _look_. _ _

__He brushes his fingertips over his nipples. Geralt gives a little gasp and his eyelids flutter._ _

__"Wouldn't think it makes a difference," Geralt mumbles and Jaskier realizes he thinks he's talking about the horns._ _

__"Oh it does, my darling, but I mean like this," he says, pulling Geralt lower over him. "Where I'm _allowed_ to touch you."_ _

__"You're always allowed," Geralt mumbles, chin dripping to inadvertently give Jsskier a better look at his horns. He reaches out, slipping his fingers down to the point again. "I just... can't help the way I react when I'm too close to you."_ _

__"What do you mean?"_ _

__"You make me want things I shouldn't, make me think about things I can't have-"_ _

__"Bullshit. What shouldn't you have? What can't you have?"_ _

__Geralt lifts his head to look at him, meeting his eyes for a moment and then, "you," he says sadly. Jaskier doesn't give a chance to respond before Geralt continues, evidently relieved to get this off his chest. "You spread your affection so wide, in every town and village and I- it's different with me. You're soft and kind, but how could you want... you have your choice of any person on the continent, how could I-'' he cuts himself off with a sound that Jaskier would call a sob from anyone else._ _

__"What are you saying, Geralt? You don't think I could want you? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"_ _

__Geralt just snorts at him and moves to pull away, but Jaskier rolls him onto his back and straddles his hips._ _

__"Do you know how wonderful you are?" He pushes his hands through Geralt's chest hair, pressing his fingertips into his skin. "How could I not want you? Do you see me following anyone else around?"_ _

__"You're always with someone, always inviting someone else into your bed-"_ _

__"Because you wouldn't have me. Or, I thought-" He shifts a little, and suddenly Geralt's hands are sliding up his back, pressing him down against him._ _

__"You thought wrong," he breathes, and then he's kissing him again, soft and slow. One hand slips up into his hair and Jaskier sighs against his lips, letting his eyes fall shut._ _

__He slumps against Geralt's chest, pressing his hands to either side of Geralt's face and he kisses him softly. He pours all of his affection into ever, every feeling he's never been able to share with Geralt, every little thought that he's thought would be too much for him. He rocks against him, pressing their bodies together. He wants to _feel_ Geralt, to be as close as he can for whatever time he has with him. _ _

__But then Geralt is pressing back, arching off the bed and wrapping one arm tightly around Jsskier's back until they're so close Jaskier can barely move. He nips at Geralt's lips, pushing back the words that bubble to the surface, the words he wants so desperately to say. He's been holding back for years and maybe now he's allowed? Maybe now Geralt would be amenable - her certainly seems to be so far._ _

__And Jaskier is so caught up in the thought, in the idea of being able to tell Geralt how he feels, that he doesn't realize he's being rolled over until he's on his back and Geralt isn't touching him anymore. He rises to his knees, breaking the kiss only to mouth at Jsskier's jaw and down the side of his neck._ _

__Geralt nips at his collarbone, runs his tongue along the ridge of it and sucks at the skin just below. There will be marks in the morning, Jaskier is sure of it, and he's already itching to look at them. But Geralt doesn't give him much of a chance to think about it before he's nuzzling at Jaskier's neck again, the tips of his fangs just barely brushing against his skin. And Jaskier shudders. The motion goes through his whole body and a soft whine escapes his lips. How the fuck Geralt ever thought seeing him like this would be a bad thing is beyond him._ _

__"Jaskier," he whispers, "I want you. Can I?"_ _

__"Anything," Jaskier gasps, "please Geralt, anything."_ _

__Geralt hums against him and meets his eyes for just a second before lowering them again to Jaskier's chest. He presses soft kisses into the skin, slipping down to nuzzle into his chest hair and Jsskier is preoccupied with the warmth of his breath and then Geralt's fingers brush over a nipple and he cries out, arching off the bed as Geralt pinches it between his fingertips. It's still gentle, still softer than he's used to, but it's _Geralt_. _ _

__It's Geralt touching his chest and kissing his neck and playing with his nipples. It's Geralt kneeling over him and Geralt breathing against his skin and it's... a lot. Automatically, Jaskier reaches out to him, pulling Geralt close so he can bury his face in his neck._ _

__Geralt works a hand between them, slipping down to fumble with the clasps on Jaskier's trousers and then he's pulling away just enough to be able to undo the clasps. Jaskier groans as his trousers are shoved away, discarded off the side of the bed, but then Geralt is fumbling with the buttons on his own and a wave of heat engulfs him._ _

___This is really happening._ _ _

__In his 33 years, Jaskier has slept with kings and queens, counts and countesses, and he's never wanted someone so badly as he wants Geralt. It makes him a little anxious and he has to swallow back his self-doubt as Geralt shifts out of his clothes and settles on his knees between Jaskier's thighs._ _

__Without breaking the kiss, he slips his arms under Jaskier's knees, pressing them back against him until he's leaning over him again. Geralt deepens the kiss, pressing down on him and Jaskier groans despite himself. Geralt's cock brushes against his hip and he's _hard_. It tugs at something deep inside him and Jaskier wraps his arms around Geralt's neck, fingers pushing into his hair. _ _

__He shifts against the mattress and Geralt pulls his arms back. His mouth doesn't leave Jaskier's, even as he reaches for something off the side of the bed. When he settles again, he's got a bottle in his hand and Jaskier whimpers at the thought of it._ _

__Geralt draws away, breaking the kiss with a hum and kissing down Jaskier's chest. He doesn't hesitate to wrap his mouth around the head of his cock and then he's bobbing gently, sliding halfway down his cock and slipping back to the head. Jaskier's eyes drop shut and he focuses on the feel of him, the warmth of his mouth, the softness of his hair in his hands._ _

__When one of Geralt's hands presses against him, he hums encouragingly but doesn't move otherwise, afraid of breaking whatever spell he's under. He doesn't want to risk ending this, doesn't want to risk almost losing Geralt again._ _

__Geralt slips a finger into him and Jaskier reaches up, smoothing his hands up the curve of Geralt's horns. He tries to keep steady, to keep from getting too worked up, but it's hard. Because this is Geralt, this is something he's wanted for _years_ \- what if it goes badly? What if it's terrible and Geralt no longer wants him? _ _

__A second finger presses into him and Jaskier gasps, startled from his thoughts. Geralt's eyes meet his and he looks worried, questioning._ _

__"Is this too much?" he asks, "we don't have to-"_ _

__"No. No, I want you, I want this. Please." Jaskier's fingers slip to the base of his horns, brushing almost nervously where the flesh meets horn. "I just want to be good enough for you."_ _

__"You are," Geralt says immediately, "more than enough."_ _

__Their lips met again and Geralt's fingers press in a little more firmly. Heat rolls up Jaskier's spine, but he's not aching for it, he's not desperate to come. His cock is hard against his hip, but he wants to be close to Geralt. He wants his arms around him, wants to wrap his legs around Geralt's waist and just press himself against him. He wants the press of skin on skin, unhindered by clothes or blankets of any number of things that have kept them apart in the past._ _

__He just wants Geralt and it doesn't matter how._ _

__When Geralt finally pushes into him, Jaskier groans at the stretch. It's good, so good, and Geralt presses down against him again. Jaskier takes the opportunity to wrap around him and they move together easily, as though they were built for each other. Geralt kisses and nips and Jaskier _loves_ so deeply he can't cope. _ _

__He hates the tears that bead in the corners of his eyes, hates the emotion that threatens to tear him apart and he buried his head in Geralt's neck to distract himself. Before he can get his arms around him properly, Geralt pulls back. As soon as he sees his face, Geralt's features pinch together._ _

__"Jaskier-"_ _

__" _Fuck_ ," Jaskier whines weakly, "Geralt."_ _

__"What's wrong?"_ _

__"Nothing," Jaskier whimpers. He reaches up to Geralt, wanting to pull him close again. He doesn't want Geralt to see him, doesn't want him thinking he's too much, too emotional._ _

__Geralt guides him back against the mattress and detangles their arms, leaning up on one elbow. Jaskier is embarrassed. He's a renowned lover, known for giving his partners the greatest pleasure and in the face of Geralt and one tiny bit of genuine affection, he breaks down._ _

__He crosses his arms over his face but Geralt just wraps gentle fingers around his wrists and pulls them back._ _

__"Hey," he whispers and there's worry in his voice that only makes Jaskier shudder. He chokes on a sob and turns his face, pressing his forehead against Geralrt's wrist._ _

__"I'm sorry," he mumbles, but Geralt just brushes his thumb over his forehead._ _

__"For what?"_ _

__"I'm... " he doesn't know what to say. _A mess? too much? not good enough for you?_ "okay."_ _

__"Jask, you're crying. Is it me?"_ _

__"No," he blurts, "no, Geralt, I-" a gentle thumb presses beneath his eye, wiping a tear away and that only makes it worse. "I love you," he whispers, so quiet he's sure no one will hear it. But Geralt, aside from his horns and his fangs, has sensitive hearing._ _

__"And that's... bad." He says. It's not a question._ _

__"No. No, but I- I fucked up. I almost lost you-"_ _

__"Jaskier," Geralt says softly, "you didn't. I was afraid you'd hate me like this, that you'd see me as the monster everyone else does. I was angry because I thought I was going to lose _you_."_ _

__"I know I'm a lot to put up with-"_ _

__"You're not."_ _

__Jaskier huffs a wet laugh. "I talk too much and I get in trouble you have to get me out of and I'm too slow and too annoying and too-" Geralt quiets him with a soft kiss to the tip of his nose._ _

__"Once," he says, "at a tavern in Posada, I would have believed those things. I don't anymore." He brushes his fingers down Jaskier's side, settling his palm against his hip. "If I really thought you were too much, I wouldn't be here now." He dips down, kissing him on the mouth again._ _

__Jaskier can't help but sink into it and when Geralt shifts back on top of him, Jaskier winds around his neck again. Geralt breaks the kiss, kissing Jaskier's jaw and down his neck._ _

__"We can stop if you want?"_ _

__"No," Jaskier mumbles._ _

__"What do you need?"_ _

__"Just... you."_ _

__"Yeah," Geralt breathes, "yeah, okay."_ _

__He shifts his hips, resuming his slow but steady rhythm and Jaskier clings to him. He can't believe he came so close to losing Geralt tonight, to losing him and losing this forever. A swell of emotion threatens to rise up again and overwhelm him, but he kisses Geralt, holds him tight and focuses on the weight of his body against his own._ _

__His fingers trail absently around the base of a horn, bumping over the uneven skin there. The horns themselves are smoother than expected, probably because they're so fresh, but he likes the sensation of them under his fingers and Geralt seems pleased about it._ _

__Sparks skitter across Jaskier's skin as Geralt's pace quickens and he gaps against his mouth as Geralt rocks into his prostate. Even when Geralt's lips aren't on him, they hover above his skin, hot breath creating goosebumps in its wake. And when he kisses him, it seems a tremor audit through Jaskier's body, making his heart beat quicker and his toes curl in the sheets. He's never felt this way with anyone, never found himself chasing closeness before an orgasm, but he likes it._ _

__He likes the sleekness of Geralt's horn under his palm, the tickle of his hair as it brushes his bare skin, the tackiness is dying away on Geralt's skin. All of it. He draws him close again, just as Geralt's hips give a little snap and it knocks the breath out of him._ _

__"Can I touch you?" Geralt asks and Jaskier knows he won't last long with Geralt's hand on him, but for once that doesn't seem important._ _

__"Please," he whispers and Geralt's palm slips up the underside of his cock, making him shudder._ _

__"Good?" he asks and Jaskier just nods, a small sound escaping his lips as he rocks his hips into the touch._ _

__Geralt's fingers wrap around him and it's like a wave of heat washing over him. Jaskier's entire body burns for him, arches off the bed to get closer to him. Geralt takes him apart so easily and it's only a matter of minutes before he's gasping for it, groaning his need into Geralt's shoulder._ _

__Geralt rocks into him, stroking him in time with his thrusts and when he kisses him again, Jaskier shatters. He groans against Geralt's lips, rocking back onto him as he spills between them. His thighs shake and his arms feel like noodles around Geralt's neck, but he holds him closer anyway._ _

__He's still breathless when Geralt's hips snap forward again and Jaskier can tell he's close in the way he shudders as he rocks into him. He tangles his fingers in Geralt's hair, kisses him hard. He wants this to be good, wants Geralt to know that he's safe here, he can be happy here._ _

__When Geralt comes, it's with a quiet moan against Jaskier's chest and he stays there for a moment, breathing against his skin. When he pulls away, he wraps his arms around Jaskier's shoulder, pulling him onto his side so they're still facing each other. Neither speaks and Geralt kisses him again, slow and gentle. His hand comes up to cup the back of his head, and Jaskier hums softly against his lips._ _

__They part again on a shaky breath and Jaskier bumps his forehead against Geralt's. He doesn't want to ask him to stay, he's still too afraid to hear him say no. But he doesn't want Geralt to go. It's already hard enough losing him over the winter, he can't bear the thought of being parted any longer than that. He shuts his eyes and presses close, pacified by the way Geralt's arm tightens around him._ _

__"Next winter," Geralt mumbles, abrupt, "come with me. There's nothing left for me to hide and I... miss you over the winter. I worry about you." Jaskier's heart soars, despite his best efforts to keep his emotions restrained._ _

__"You'd want me there?" he asks, "with your brothers?"_ _

__"Yeah. And they've been bugging me about it since I first mentioned you."_ _

__"You talk about me?" Jaskier asks, pulling back to look at him. Geralt tips his head up, golden eyes shining even in the dim light._ _

__"Of course. You're-" he pauses as though unsure of what exactly Jaskier _is_. "I love you, too," he whispers at last, eyes lowered. _ _

__It feels like a dream, like any moment Jaskier will wake up and be back hiding behind that building or worse - alone in his room. But when he kisses him, Geralt is warm and solid against him and Jaskier buries himself in that warmth._ _

__He will never, _could_ never, understand how anyone can see this man as a monster._ _


End file.
